SOTA c03s01
Text The party was long and enjoyable: Scrivener and Luna were able to spend time with their friends and family, reconnecting with each other, discussing their plans for the future, and seeing faces they hadn't been able to spend as much time with over the last while. It was a wonderful night... but by the time the last guests were ushered out to be guided home by Nightmares and other servants of the darkness, Scrivener felt utterly exhausted, and Luna and Twilight were the same. Antares had gone to bed upstairs at some point, and so the three were otherwise alone: Luna flung herself down on the squashed bedding in front of the fireplace, and Scrivener and Twilight both joined her after a moment. Luna immediately shoved her face into Scrivener's neck and refused to move as Twilight sprawled against Luna's back, a few of her stitches popped open... but as she rested against Luna, they slowly began to sew themselves closed, and Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly at this by now all-too-familiar feeling. She was a Lich, a powerful undead being sustained by magic and a phylactery that contained her soul... except while she remembered her original phylactery had been a music box, it had been destroyed and she had been forced to house her essence in something else. Two somethings, as a matter of fact... Luna and Scrivener themselves now acted as her link and anchor to this world. And while the living phylactery they provided was actually far more effective a container than her old music box, it also had a few dangers: one of which was that if they so chose, they could actually control her. But Luna and Scrivy were gentle with her, careful with her... she loved that about them, and trusted them completely in part because of that tenderness. And this close to them, she could feel their emotions, sense their thoughts, even see into their linked mind and link her own self with them... but she felt that she had to be careful. She didn't want to abuse their trust in her by staring too deeply into their minds, and she didn't want to hurt them: when they connected, after all, they felt one-another's emotions, and when they were all this tired... Soon, though, Luna and Scrivener were asleep, and Twilight was only able to stay awake a little longer before she fell into a deep slumber as well, head resting silently against Luna's back, smiling softly as the sapphire mare's starry locks danced and stroked gently over the Lich, almost blanketing her. But while Twilight fell into a sound, comfortable sleep, Luna's dreams were dark... and Scrivener shivered once as he found himself in the grip of... something else. He silently looked back and forth, then gritted his teeth as he reached up and touched his features not with a hoof, but a gnarled claw. His foreleg was covered in gleaming black scales, and his body had warped and distorted, becoming larger and bulkier, ebony and reptilian hide spreading over his form like stains. His tail had become long and draconic, and a single wing flapped once as three large, conical pistons of bone sparked along one side of his upper back. He bared fangs as he looked back and forth, his features half that of a pony, and half that of a reptilian parasite known as a Tyrant Wyrm, a large horn jutting back from his head in place of an ear on this half of his face as he shouted: “Come out!” There was silence as the world around him filled slowly in, becoming a dark forest of dead trees that stood in black, ugly mire. The ground pulsed beneath Scrivener's hooves as he dug his claws into the scaled side of his face, then he glared back and forth before his chestnut eyes looked sharply over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps. Black loafers strode calmly through the mire as a patronizing smile spread over the handsome features of the white dragon. His amber eyes were both malicious and entertained as he spread his arms mockingly, a pristine ivory suit tight against his tall frame, a crystalline bolo tie in the shape of a wolf's head neatly closing off his collar. “Now now, cheating little insect. Were you that afraid of your own nightmares without me around?” “I know you're not real. Why the hell can't I get rid of you?” Scrivener asked sharply, rounding on the dragon as his eyes blazed with fury... but there was fear in them as well, fear that only drove his aggression higher. “You're just a figment of my imagination! We killed you, we destroyed your world, we stopped you once and for-” The dragon simply held up a hand and clenched it shut, and Scrivener's jaws were forcefully closed as he winced in pain, as the dragon smiled coldly at him. His amber eyes glowed with cruelty and intellect and savagery all mixed together, and Scrivener couldn't stop himself from trembling. This, after all, was the worst of all his nightmares, who he felt like he could never be rid of, never free himself from; Valthrudnir, a Jötnar of immeasurable power who refused to remain quietly in his grave. Valthrudnir shook his head slowly, then he allowed his hand to open before calmly examining the silver rings on his fingers, as Scrivener shook his head out and glared furiously as the Jötnar said derisively: “And we've been over that many times, have we not, Scrivener Blooms? Even after a minor miscalculation left me exposed enough to be... temporarily incapacitated... you never let go of me. I remained inside your mind, with all your other cherished memories and thoughts and ideas... because you need me. You need me, I think, more than I need an insignificant life form like yourself, however weakened I may appear at this point and time.” “I don't need you. I hate you. I... I'd do anything to get rid of you.” Scrivener snarled, and Valthrudnir smiled at this, squatting down in front of the half-pony, half-wyrm so they were eye-to-eye as the giant reached a finger up to press it against Scrivener's nose. “Exactly.” he said softly, and then he shook his head slowly and let his hand fall away, grinning coldly. “That is precisely why you need me. Because of how much you hate me... because that is precisely what makes me an easy scapegoat for all your sins. As long as I'm around, you can blame me for all your sins... but even though I am your maker-” “You didn't make me! You didn't make me who I am, what I became!” Scrivener shouted angrily, but Valthrudnir was unperturbed even as the warped Scrivener almost shoved his face up against the dragon's. “And you are sure as hell not welcome in my mind or needed to take any blame, because goddammit, we all know that I'm the freak, I'm the monster, I'm the weak link!” “Your whining and crying will never cease to amuse me, 'cuckoo.' That's the name you decided to call yourself, isn't it?” Valthrudnir stood again, looking down at Scrivener with both contempt and entertainment as he crossed his arms, and Scrivener glared up at the Jötnar, furious, desperate, afraid. “I will admit that it's suiting for what I had in mind... and still, to this day, I cannot help but marvel at how easily what you truly were slipped right past my nose. I should have known from the moment I saw you... but I suppose that I was too preoccupied with my victory over your pathetic world to pay much notice to the small details.” Scrivener snarled and flexed, the bone pistons on his back sparking and pumping as he shifted back and forth, holding himself back from lunging at the Jötnar, and Valthrudnir looked down at him with a mocking smile. “Well, look at this? Are you learning your place? That even if I'm currently forced to inhabit your plebeian mind like a king who has been locked away inside a slowly-sinking enemy ship... I am the one in control, and you are the worthless slave?” The stallion roared as he leapt forwards, his eyes flashing blue... and without a pause, Valthrudnir swept a hand down, catching him by the throat and crushing his windpipe as he hauled him into the air, holding the half-pony, half-wyrm's weakly-writhing body above his head. Scrivener gargled and gasped for breath, his eyes rolling in his head as Valthrudnir looked up at him coldly, saying softly: “Do not test my patience, pathetic little construct. I may not be able to kill you but I can easily overpower you and cause you agony until you manage to escape from your own twisted mind. Now, let us resume acting like civilized adults, shall we, and continue our conversation.” With that, Valthrudnir flung Scrivener to the ground, knocking him bouncing over the mire on his back as he coughed and gagged. The Jötnar studied him for a few moments, then he snorted in contempt and calmly reached into the jacket of his suit, pulling loose a deck of playing cards. He began to shuffle them slowly, every so often making them dance around his fingers or riffling the cards together as he watched Scrivener slowly recovering. And when he finally managed to push himself to hooves and claw and glare up at the Jötnar, the dragon asked almost curiously: “Explain something to me, mortal, because I still cannot grasp this hypocrisy... how can you accept that I am here, once more on the path to regaining my power, while at the same time you refuse to believe it whatsoever? As a matter of fact... I could swear that every time we meet, you almost seem excited to see me, like a pathetic little puppy whimpering for attention from the master?” Scrivener only shook his head slowly, clenching his eyes shut before he looked up and whispered: “I don't want you here.” “But you do.” Valthrudnir replied almost gently, and then he laughed quietly before he riffled the cards into one hand and easily fanned the deck out, looking calmly down at the cards as he continued: “Over these last few years we have... learned to put up with one another's presence... I have patiently been analyzing you during our meetings few and far between. How for weeks afterwards, out of terror of crossing paths with me, you do anything and everything to keep yourself awake. Yet more than that, there's the fact that again and again, you go over whatever I've said to you...” “Stay... I... no, no, no... I'm not listening to you, I don't have to listen to you...” Scrivener shook his head wildly back and forth, and then he spun around, trying to run away... and when he looked up, he found Valthrudnir standing calmly in front of him only a few feet away. Scrivener cursed and spun around again... and there was the Jötnar, looking as if nothing had happened, continuing as calmly and patronizingly as if Scrivener hadn't spoken as he flicked through the fanned-out cards. “It interests me. I contemplate often on the psychological aspects of you worthless little ponies... to be entirely honest, I strongly doubt you are all as high-functioning as you perceive yourselves to be, with how often you all act and react based upon such pathetic primal instincts instead of intelligent functions...” Scrivener yelled furiously and tried to turn... and Valthrudnir only calmly glanced up, and a moment later the half-pony, half-wyrm was imprisoned by shackles and bars of ice that forced him back into a sitting position, the stallion cursing weakly as the Jötnar said distastefully: “Such as your insipid and pathetic attempts to run away from me. You seem to fail to recognize that we are inside your own mind, so there is no possible way you can create a physical distance between us... just as you fail to remember all the many times you have attempted to interrupt or flee in the past always result in this same outcome. You, trapped and helpless, while I find myself irritated that once more I am forced to remind you both of your inadequacy and my own superiority.” The half-wyrm, half-pony struggled weakly for a moment, and then he cursed under his breath before forcing himself to calm down, shivering and breathing hard. The ice bit against his limbs, made his whole body ache as Valthrudnir looked down at him, then pulled a single card free and said softly: “But it serves to prove the point I just made, all the same. You are inferior, that is all there is to it... a serviceable weapon, perhaps, but that is all.” Scrivener remained silent, biting back the urge to scream, and Valthrudnir made the cards fanned out in his hand vanish with only a flick of his wrist before spinning the single remaining card in his other hand around to show to the trapped stallion. “The Ace of Hearts. What do you think it means, Scrivener Blooms?” “Why should I try and explain that to a monster like you?” Scrivener retorted, shifting a bit against the ice before he said coldly: “You call me primal and stupid, but... look at you. Your suit, your big vocabulary, your... everything, and all you really are is a bully, a coward, and a goddamn brute.” Valthrudnir's eyes slowly narrowed, and then he suddenly smiled coldly, straightening as he crushed the card in his hand. He looked calmly down at his closed fist for a moment, and then he opened it, his amber eyes glowing as the card reformed... but now it was glowing white, hovering silently above his palm as he said softly: “Call me all the names you like, insolent little pest. But your kind were the ones stupid enough to use a wish formed of my own essence, to bring you, the pathetic shell I am forced for now to reside inside, back from death. To wish you back into existence as you once were... waking me up from my pleasant little nap. “Really, I owe your son a vote of thanks. Had it not been for his selfishness in compelling all those other pathetic little ponies into putting so much power into wishing you and Brynhild back into existence, I may have remained dormant...” Valthrudnir smiled contemptibly, as Scrivener snarled and struggled against the ice again, feeling another burst of rage swell through his system. “But like calls to like, as you well know. That is why you are drawn to me, wretched little creature. Because while I am not like you... you desire very, very much to become like me. Or at least serve and recognize the purpose for which you were designed.” “I... you... I won't give in...” Scrivener whispered, but the Jötnar only looked down at him with his awful, patronizing eyes. “You didn't break me before, you won't break me this time, either. You're just a parasite, a tumor, a... a...” “I am Jötnar, and my powers go well beyond that of anything you can comprehend with your simple insectile brain, cheating little hack.” Valthrudnir replied, and his tone was almost pitying, making Scrivener glare in fury before the dragon leaned down and said softly: “There's a certain amount of poetic justice here, Scrivener Blooms. A certain irony that cuts both ways...” “What are you talking about? Why won't you just leave me alone or... or fight?” Scrivener shouted, writhing against the icy prison as his half-transformed features flexed, his eyes taking on a faint, unholy blue luminescence as he felt awful, dark instincts beginning to rise up through him... Then Valthrudnir calmly pushed a single finger against his head, and Scrivener's blood felt like it turned to ice in his veins as he gasped and all his strength was drained away, the Jötnar smiling in cold contempt. “Can you not add one plus one, insolent little beast? You were a prototype of a new method I planned to use to destroy and infect worlds, designed to carry and spread the Clay of Prometheus, what you call 'corruption...' the black, dark gunk that flows in place of your blood and gives you your strength. “This was why I was able to live on inside your mind after you cheated and destroyed my physical body, as we have discussed. Why the Tyrant Wyrm triggered a transformation in you, and did not destroy you. Why you can utilize the Black Verses in spite of not understanding the depth of their beauty and power with your plebeian mind.” Valthrudnir continued calmly, and then he leaned slowly down until he was looming face-to-face over the half-pony, half-wyrm. “As long as you exist, pathetic little pony, then I'll continue to be right here inside you.” Valthrudnir reached up and tapped twice on Scrivener's forehead, and the half-wyrm, half-pony shook his head weakly before the prison of ice shattered around him and sent him spilling back into the mire. Valthrudnir smiled calmly at this, straightening and putting his hands behind his back as he looked contemplatively down at Scrivener Blooms, then he said almost kindly: “I've been thinking about this for the last few years, mortal, while watching you squirm and try to understand the answers for yourself. It's been fun, but do you know why I finally decided to spell it out for you? Because of your weakness... Brynhild.” The Jötnar turned around, looking upwards as he rose a hand and snapped his fingers, and a ripple passed through the world before stars and strange planets began to twinkle in the skies above, as Scrivener only stared weakly at the dragon's back. “You think of me as a cancer inside you... I dislike the metaphor but suppose it is fitting enough. Something growing, that could easily kill you, and you direly desire to excise. But no matter what I am... echo, memory-become-sentient, or something else entirely... you understand that I am too deeply-entrenched to be easily removed. And you will not kill yourself to kill me, no matter how suicidal and self-loathing you are, because it would hurt your precious little Valkyrie.” “Don't talk about her!” Scrivener shouted, his eyes glowing brighter blue for a moment as he snarled, and then he grabbed at his face and clenched his eyes shut, breathing hard as he felt his instincts and the corruption both boiling inside him. “You should be happy, little toy soldier. You should be honored to have the rightful master of this pathetic little realm of worlds created by Odin inside your mind.” Valthrudnir said distastefully, examining his claws before he glanced over his shoulder and added softly: “Not to mention that I am your creator and true master. And you will learn this and bow to me before your life is over, Scrivener Blooms.” Scrivener looked up with a snarl, opening his mouth... but a moment later, some awful, cold force passed over him, and instead he was left paralyzed, unable to move as icy needles pricked at his nerves. Valthrudnir only surveyed him calmly for a few moments, then said softly: “We've spoken enough for now, servant... Scrivener Blooms, as you call yourself. Not the name I would have chosen for you, Replicant. Something more like... Nihete. It suits the purpose for which you were designed much better; to infiltrate and destroy.” The half-wyrm, half-stallion tried to respond, but he could barely move against the cold pressure surrounding his body. He felt it growing worse, and his eyes clenched tightly shut in response, drawing up every last reserve of strength he had before lunging forwards, feeling himself tearing through the icy imprisonment... And he crashed uselessly down on nothing but dark earth, looking stupidly back and forth as he realized that Valthrudnir, the forest, the alien skies above... they were all gone. Instead, he was alone in deep shadow, heart thudding in his chest, eyes looking uselessly back and forth before a voice murmured quietly: “My poor, sweet Scrivener Blooms... but wouldn't you rather know the truth than remained trapped in ignorance?' Scrivener slowly looked up as a shape emerged in the darkness: a mighty winged unicorn, blacker than the night around them, with a mane of swirling sapphire flames. Behind her, a whiplike tail swayed back and forth with every step of her cloven hooves over the dark earth, and her eyes – so much like Luna's, but darker, more calculating, more merciless – focused on the earth pony as she approached. But this was no pony: horns gleamed almost as brightly as the crisscrossing scars over her features, and knives and needles and torture implements were impaled all along her back, but she wore them with the pride a well-groomed mare would her jewelry. There was no pain in her gait, nothing but curiosity and terrifying dark love in her eyes. “Nightmare Moon.” Scrivener murmured quietly, and his eyes roved to the collar of steel roses around her neck, polished bright red with blood, a black pearl like Luna's inset into the front. This terrifying creature was Luna's passion and dark strength given shape and life, emotion that lived and breathed and manipulated. Nightmare Moon smiled at him affectionately, leaning down: even with his increased size in the warped shape he often took in his dreams and nightmares, she was still larger than him. She gently nuzzled him as he stood, and Scrivener closed his eyes before he asked softly: “Where's Luna?” “Around. Dealing with her own insecurities, perhaps... it doesn't matter. You need to speak to me right now, not her, don't you?” Nightmare Moon smiled, and Scrivener Blooms sighed quietly as he looked down, before wincing when the entity murmured softly: “Nihete. It resonated with you.” “I'd like Luna to be here, Nightmare Moon. I want to talk to you, too, but... I want to see Luna as well.” Scrivener said carefully, and the enormous creature looked down at him almost pleadingly before he closed his eyes and sighed tiredly, reaching up a claw and rubbing slowly at his face. “Okay, okay. If... if I let you say what you want to first, will you then go get Luna?” “Thank you, Scrivener Blooms... and what I have to say is simple enough, in any event.” Nightmare Moon said softly, her expression affectionate as she leaned down and locked gazes with him: and for all her control, the power she exuded, the malice that emanated from her... when she looked at him, she was submissive and almost servile, as she whispered: “You are my King of the Night, beloved. You have always been who you are... all this can do is make you stronger.” Scrivener only grimaced at this, looking away, and Nightmare Moon laughed quietly before she reached up and stroked his face gently. “You cannot run from who you are, any more than Luna could run from her past, or seal me away forever. Take pride in who you are, Scrivener Blooms.” Then Nightmare Moon paused before stepping back and smiling softly over her shoulder as blue mist swirled through the air a few feet away, before coalescing and solidifying into the shape of Luna, who glared moodily up at the dark entity of passion before turning concerned eyes towards Scrivener Blooms. But Nightmare Moon gave a quiet laugh even as Luna strode quickly past to trade a tight embrace, murmuring: “It's funny. If I could, my darlings, I would keep you as you are now... but amplify you, perhaps, with the traits of the creatures you almost became.” “I do not care. Shut up and begone, foul monster.” Luna growled, but Nightmare Moon smiled and looked unfettered, earning a moody glower from the winged unicorn. “Wretched creature. Thou art as much a parasite as the accursed echo that has lodged itself inside mine beloved's head!” The entity of passion's expression darkened at this, her eyes narrowing slightly as he smile thinned slightly, before she said softly: “Be careful, Luna Brynhild. You should know better than anyone else that my patience has its limits... and between us, who the stronger is.” Luna shifted a bit at this, but her expression was wary before Nightmare Moon suddenly smiled again, bowing her head and murmuring: “But I forget myself, and my place... as humble servant, as we agreed upon. But I am your emotions, Luna, and further excited by the pains our husband needlessly suffers... you'll have to excuse my outburst.” “I have to do nothing. Leave us, creature.” Luna muttered, glowering at Nightmare Moon, but the black winged unicorn only turned a curious look on Scrivener Blooms, and Luna sighed tiredly as she muttered: “Aye, this is all adding into a most wonderful night. Why even pretend to serve us both, Nightmare Moon, when it is clear thy true reason to exist is simply to frustrate me so?” “I am merely ensuring that your desire matches that of my King, sweet Luna. I would be remiss to leave just by your word when clearly I've made you feel threatened.” Nightmare Moon's voice was sweet, almost humble, and it made Luna's teeth grind together as she glared in frustration at the creature. “But I know very well that you'd put your own emotions aside for Scrivener... you aren't so selfish you'd allow yourself to be driven only by your own base and pathetic jealousies, would you?” Luna sighed quietly, slumping a little, and Scrivener dropped his own head a bit, closing his eyes. They both knew what Nightmare Moon was referring to... the real reason behind the tension that had existed between the two halves of Luna ever since they'd returned to this world. Not that either Scrivener or Luna wanted to completely believe the story... but the evidence... Scrivener Blooms sighed quietly, then he looked up and asked finally: “Why do you still hold that over Luna's head... how can you blame her for what happened when it wasn't even her fault? Hell, how can you... urge me to become this... this monster...” Scrivener gestured at himself silently, his warped body flexing slowly. “And yet chastise Luna for... for something that neither her nor I nor anyone else seems to even remember clearly?” “I remember. And Antares remembers, he has only blocked it out... not that we can blame our beloved son.” Nightmare Moon smiled almost tenderly, closing her eyes. “He suffered enough in his journey for an entire lifetime, after all... but still, there is much pride for him to take in not only surviving, but triumphing against all odds. As we can take pride in the fact that when in the most dire danger of his life, he remembered his promise. He called out to us... and our roles were reversed. I think you remember this as well, sweet Luna... you just prefer to pretend that you do not.” Luna only grunted in response, turning her gaze moodily away before Nightmare Moon laughed quietly and murmured: “But it is of no consequence, either way. Scrivener Blooms, I am sorry, I digressed from the question, but the answer is very simple. I hold Luna accountable because she holds herself accountable. It is as simple as that.” Scrivener looked over at the sapphire mare softly, but Luna only grunted and moodily glanced up, saying distastefully: “The choice I am faced with, if... that nightmare is true, creature and to this day I am not sure whether or not I could have been so stupid as I was... is that I am to blame my son for saving us or I am to hold myself accountable for being a vicious fool.” “You do no favors for Antares in not holding him accountable... and you are not as noble as you make yourself sound, Luna Brynhild.” Nightmare Moon chastised softly, but when both Luna and Scrivener glared at her, the dark entity smiled calmly and strode slowly backwards, retreating into the shadows even as she murmured quietly: “I have found love in my heart for the child, that is why I say we must ensure that he is held accountable for his mistakes... especially those that come from good intentions. If you truly care about him, help him face the past and atone. I know that he will help you do the same.” Nightmare Moon's eyes and collar glimmered, her mane becoming a dim swirl of blue fire in the darkness before she vanished as her presence faded completely. Yet for a few moments Luna glared off into the darkness all the same, shifting uneasily before she sighed quietly and turned towards Scrivener, simply dropping her head against the side of his neck silently. He closed his own eyes, then reached up and wrapped one limb around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer, and Luna cursed quietly under her breath before she murmured: “'Tis all unfair, Scrivener Blooms. The past chases us... both of us, in our own way, infected by evils that were forced upon our heads, not sins willingly chosen...” “You're getting poetic, Luna. That's usually the first sign you're going to start getting self-pitying.” Scrivener said softly, and Luna grunted and headbutted him firmly before mumbling and burying her face tighter into the side of his neck, and the half-wyrm, half-pony smiled a little despite himself as he squeezed her closer. “Okay, fine... then how about this? Here we stand, tormented and bleeding, and writ upon our souls in tears and blood are sins all done with good intention...” “Do not mock me, poet, or I shall smash thou.” Luna mumbled moodily, and Scrivener smiled a little again despite himself before the sapphire mare sighed quietly and glanced up, studying him silently. “Idiot beetle.” “I know. I know. But just having you here helps a lot and...” Scrivener shifted a bit as they stepped back from one-another, the half-wyrm, half-pony looking down to study his warped claw silently. “I guess I've had a long time to get used to this. And I know what I am, what I'm supposed to be... but with you beside me, Luna, I'm not afraid of that, either. I'm just scared of... Valthrudnir.” He looked away, and Luna nodded slowly and studied him silently before she said quietly: “We are soulmates, Scrivy. More and more, I see why every day: thou and I are different, yet the same... paralleled. But I know part of it is my fault, and yet... I now take a strange pleasure in that. I cannot help but think, after all, that had I not helped mold thou into what thou art now... thou may have indeed ended up some pathetic little pawn of Valthrudnir's I would have sadly been forced to crush before running away with Twilight Sparkle.” Scrivener sighed a little, but he smiled a bit, and Luna smiled faintly in return before she reached up and touched his face gently. Their eyes locked, trading emotions and thoughts and images, comforting each other here in the darkness that lurked inside their own linked minds before Luna said softly: “The night and our dreams are young yet, Scrivener, and... we have overcome all obstacles in the past. We have been saved from... I know not still whether 'twas true death or awful dormancy, but our son rescued us all the same. And we have each other and always shall.” She stopped, then shifted and added grudgingly: “And much as I loathe her, Nightmare Moon is not our enemy. She is... me, in many unfortunate senses. We must... I must not allow my bitterness to cloud our minds, that is all. Perhaps she can even assist us in dealing with that unwanted tenant in thine own head in due course...” Scrivener shifted a bit, not wanting to think about Valthrudnir at the moment: when he did, he began to wonder how much the Jötnar spoke was true, and how much could just very well be his own wild imaginings and rampant delusions trying to further ingrain themselves into his tortured little brain. But now Luna was studying him intently, and Scrivener hurriedly shook his head before saying quietly: “Let's just try and focus on other things for now, Luna. We've... got a lot to think about, after all.” Luna shrugged meditatively, and Scrivener gave her a flat look before the winged unicorn replied mildly: “Well, 'tis not that I disagree but... so what of it? We have survived it all, have we not? We have learned to live with all these strange truths that we have discovered... that I and Celestia are reincarnated Valkyries, that the Equestria we came from was only one of ninety nine – or perhaps more – separate worlds created by Odin, to shield the core reality which Valthrudnir seeks to destroy. And we defeated Valthrudnir, and all his machinations: we destroyed the Black Wolves that devoured our world, we helped build Looking Glass Equestria, we stopped Clockwork World and conquered Fate itself. We even returned from the darkness.” Luna nodded firmly, closing her eyes and murmuring: “Aye, Scrivy. There is nothing we cannot do, if we put our minds to the task. Together we are not just strong, we are invincible... there is no force in the universe, inside or outside, that can conquer us. I wholeheartedly believe that... and 'tis part of why I love thee, so deeply and truly.” “Thanks, Luna, I'm glad you love me because I make you feel all big and tough.” Scrivener said mildly, and the sapphire mare snorted in amusement, giving him a slight smile despite herself before the stallion looked down and quietly scraped at the earth with his claw. “But it does mean a lot to me that... you're still here beside me, we're still in this together despite the fact that... I am what I am. I guess it helped that... you know, we never found out until we were deep in Decretum already...” “But I think I would have loved thee all the same... assuming I did not simply kill thou out of hoof, of course, had we known from the beginning what thou were.” Luna replied easily, and Scrivener couldn't help but give a bit of a laugh before the mare leaned forwards and said gently: “Look at thyself, Scrivy. Whiny, intolerable, frustrating as ever even now. And my other half.” Scrivener nodded a little, and then he hesitated for a few moments before asking softly: “Should we try and pull in Twilight?” “Thou art so ridiculously fond of her. 'Tis annoying, Scrivener, I am supposed to be the preferred wife.” Luna replied mildly, and Scrivener rolled his eyes before the sapphire mare glanced back and forth thoughtfully. “Aye, thou, I believe we should, but first we must create a better surrounding. We must be gracious hosts, must we not?” “We must.” Scrivener replied with a slight smile, and then both he and Luna closed their eyes and bowed their head, concentrating on their surroundings, and a rumble passed through the shadowy landscape around them as the reality of their dreamscape rippled. And when both ponies opened their eyes and traded a smile, they were standing beneath a beautiful, starry night sky, the moon casting bright, ivory light over the verdant forest they now stood in. Trees swayed around them, tapers and vines hanging around them like gorgeous decorations, and flowers and herbs tickled gently against their ankles as Luna murmured quietly: “Aye, this is better.” They looked back and forth around the small clearing for a moment before Luna's horn glowed, and Scrivener smiled slightly as he felt her gentle mental pull. Their mixed soul meant they didn't just experience things as one, or share only thoughts and emotions... they could combine their strength and concentration together. Scrivener closed his eyes, breathing slowly as he bowed his head forwards, and Luna mimicked him as her horn glowed brighter, before the two slowly arched their backs at the same time, mirroring one another as the mare's horn became like a burning beacon... and a moment later, there was a bright flash before Twilight Sparkle appeared, the Lich looking back and forth in surprise before the two ponies opened their eyes and smiled over at her. She glowered at them in return, blushing faintly as her stitching pulsed along her frame: even in her own mind, Twilight had come to accept herself as what she had become, and her mental self reflected that. The violet mare looked moodily back and forth between Luna and Scrivener as they both smiled at her, and they could both easily sense her happiness and warmth beneath her visible frustration as she said flatly: “You know, you guys can't just drag me into your mind world whenever you feel like it. I thought we made a rule about that” “Dreamworld, technically. Or mental world. Not mind world.” Scrivener remarked, and when Twilight favored him with a sour look, the half-wyrm, half-pony shrugged and smiled a little. “What can I say, Twilight? I guess nothing makes me feel better quite like having you around to poke at.” “I bet thou wants to poke her.” Luna muttered, and then she paused before grinning slightly, half-lidding her eyes. “Actually, 'tis not a bad idea. There are few better ways to relieve stress than-” “I hate you both.” Twilight interrupted moodily, and Luna laughed before the violet mare sighed quietly and shook her head slowly, glancing back and forth. “You know, I was having the nicest dream about the old days... you know, when everything was... peaceful, and we were all young and so carefree, compared to these days. After all... even with everything we faced back then, the troubles we endured... they were nothing compared to... to what came after.” She glanced down at herself, then sighed a little and rubbed a hoof silently over her stitches, making a soft rasping sound as both Scrivener and Luna softened a little and studied the violet mare. But after a few moments, Twilight rose her head and gave a small smile, saying quietly: “But I don't think I'd change anything. I think... I think I like who I am, even if that scares me sometimes. Sure, it hurts sometimes, too... but... I can do a lot of good like this. And I like the thought of being with you both... forever.” Twilight blushed a little, then she shook her head quickly before questioning in a soft voice: “Now what's up? Because now that I'm here and paying a little more attention... I can feel that something's not right. I might not have the same depth of connection as you do between each other, but I can still feel your emotions pretty clearly.” “Thou could if thou desired to, though... I... Twilight, thou art aware... thou art an equal to us, are thou not?” Luna asked gently, and Twilight Sparkle blushed a bit and glanced away for a moment, and the starry-maned winged unicorn smiled faintly as she murmured softly: “We... Twilight, this link we made with thou... 'twas selfish of us. 'Twas our decision, and perhaps even more than it was thine own, even if it was thy very soul that was placed into our hooves.” “I still... don't clearly remember why I made the decision, or when it happened... but Luna, I've never regretted it. If I've ever felt like... I shouldn't have done this, it's not because of you two, because I'm afraid of the power you could have over me if you wanted... it's because I feel like I've forced myself in deeper than I have the right to be.” Twilight replied quietly, but Luna only smiled faintly as Scrivener shook his own head with a soft laugh. “Twilight, you... belong with us, like Luna says.” the stallion said after a moment, and then he glanced down at his own claw quietly, adding in a wry voice: “Although... maybe that is selfishness on my part. Wanting to think that you're... like us.” “Freaks.” Luna supplied positively, and Scrivener and Twilight both gave her flat looks, but the sapphire mare smiled wider, shaking herself out briskly. “Oh, what of it? We are all freaks here. Monsters, ghouls, darkness incarnate, each one of us. And I enjoy this.” The others only stared for a moment at the sapphire mare, and then Twilight rolled her eyes and shook her head before returning her gaze to Scrivener, beginning quietly as he looked back seriously and sympathetically: “I know, Scrivy, but... it's awkward. It doesn't feel like intruding, no, but it feels like... I should still wait to be invited in, or-” “No, enough, enough of this!” Luna huffed, striding between Twilight and Scrivener and swinging her horn back and forth, and both ponies winced and staggered backwards to avoid being hit by her before the starry-maned mare declared: “We must take after my beloved big brother Sleipnir and simply throw away the bad, and celebrate what is good, that is all! Cease thy whining and thinking, both of thee, 'tis annoying. Celebrate instead that we are three together as one, and I am the luckiest mare in all the worlds.” “Luna.” Twilight said grouchily, but when Luna turned an almost-pleading look on her, the Lich groaned and threw her head back, half-arguing: “We... we can't just dodge around this topic forever, or... avoid talking about it or-” “I have had enough sulking, and thus will give thou my answer to thee in the best way that I can.” Luna interrupted, and Twilight glared before the winged unicorn stepped forwards and firmly kissed the Lich just as she began to open her mouth again. Twilight blinked dumbly several times, then her eyes closed as she helplessly returned the kiss before the two mares pulled apart, and Scrivener couldn't help but feel the same thrill of pleasure and mischief that ran through the smiling sapphire mare. “There. Understood?” “No?” Twilight answered dumbly, and Luna leaned forwards and kissed her firmly a second time: when she drew back a moment later from the blushing Lich, Twilight's violet eyes flickered a little before she said lamely: “Yes.” “Good.” Luna rose her head proudly, and Scrivener laughed and shook his own with an amused smile despite himself before the sapphire winged unicorn softened and said quietly: “Thou art with us, and we with thou, and that is that. Aye, Scrivy and I have had... unpleasant experiences, but we did not invite thee here to philosophize or relive them. We invited thee in to... relax with us, in our lucid fantasies. And thou enjoys it, does thou not?” Twilight nodded hesitantly, then she glanced over at Scrivener, and he nodded slowly, murmuring: “Funnily enough, I think there's plenty of wisdom in Luna's childishness. Weird as that is to admit.” He glanced over at the sapphire mare with entertainment when she huffed at him. “I think the biggest advantage of... being linked like we are, after all, is this right here. Sharing and controlling these... dreams.” “Or nightmares.” Luna said gently, glancing over at Scrivener with a slight smile, and the half-wyrm, half-pony shifted and cleared his throat as Twilight only looked at them with affection in her eyes. “Aye, I agree. Twilight agrees too.” “I... you can't just...” Twilight started, and when Luna glowered at her, she sighed tiredly and dropped her head forwards, muttering: “Oh fine. I guess I do though, yeah... although... really, it does bear some discussion...” “Twilight, cease being boring. Scrivener, do not even begin to speak, 'tis not what thy mouth was designed for doing. Now, both of thee, come with me. Let us indulge in harmless adventure and sport.” Luna said firmly, spinning around and striding off into the forest. For a few moments, Twilight and Scrivener only stared after the winged unicorn... and then they traded looks, and Scrivener shrugged awkwardly before Twilight smiled a little, stepping over to him and reaching up to touch his shoulder gently as she said quietly: “For what it's worth, I don't think you're a monster.” “And I think if anything, being... what you are... has only made you stronger and more beautiful, Twilight.” Scrivener replied softly, and the two smiled at each other... before both ponies winced when Luna shoved her head back into the clearing, glaring at them pointedly as something rumbled ominously in the distance. “But. Looks like the Mistress is calling.” Luna huffed and nodded plaintively a few times, and Twilight shook her head as the sapphire mare once more turned around and headed off into the forest, the Lich asking moodily: “Doesn't she get enough adventure in reality?” “Look on the bright side. These last few peaceful years, things have been quiet, so she's learning to work her steam off in harmless fantasy instead of dragging us along to pick fights with real dragons and stuff. I'd much prefer spending my nights 'adventuring' in our mixed-up dreamscape than getting beaten up in the real world because Luna can't keep her hooves to herself.” Scrivener replied reasonably, and Twilight nodded thoughtfully as the two fell into pace and headed into the forest, naturally following the path Luna had trod through the darkness. “Even if. You know. I look like this.” But Twilight only smiled, and Scrivener smiled back despite himself, before the two nodded to each other firmly and hurried to catch up to the winged unicorn that they both admired. Top ↑